


Swim

by morethananythinginmylife



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Pool Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morethananythinginmylife/pseuds/morethananythinginmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Coachella 2013 finally at a close and the house finally empty, Guy-Manuel goes for a swim while Thomas enjoys the view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swim

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [art](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/22887) by ifloveistheanswer. 



> Based on a prompt from the kink meme based on a quote from the Pitchfork article and inspired by art by ifloveistheanswer.

Yet another sweltering hot day at the Bing Crosby Estate. But instead of the ruckus of the days past - the constant stream of friends and interviewers covering the teaser launch at the festival - the house is silent. Guy-Manuel blinks his eyes open and slowly stretches out in the California King Bed, sighing into the quiet. _Five days here and I still haven’t done anything remotely interesting in this damn bed._ He throws on his black Dior Homme swimshorts and walks through the house, checking his phone as he walks. It’s 11:30am Monday morning and everyone’s peeled out, most of the crew heading out the night before to catch flights this morning. The disaster zone is surprisingly contained to the large kitchen. Guy-Manuel navigates his way through the mess of champagne bottles, blunt wrappers, pizza boxes and God knows what else littering the granite countertops to find a clean glass. He grabs a yorba mate tea from the fridge and heads out to the pool.

Thomas had been going back and forth with the executives at Columbia for several hours while also watching shaky YouTube footage from Saturday. _Who would have ever thought?_ Something glittering outside pulls his attention to the window. Looking out, he watches as Guy-Manuel’s thick gold bracelet catches the light. Guy-Manuel lays out on a deck chair in the sun and plays with his gold-plated iPhone. _Tacky bastard._ The small gold wishbone pendant hanging from a delicate gold chain completes the trifecta of gold pieces. Thomas sits back and watches his friend. Guy-Man eventually puts down the phone, polishes off his drink and lays back. Thomas can’t help but note how different he looks now, the last two years of personal training and swimming every day clearly paying off. While Guy-Man’s body has always tended towards the softer side, gone was the feral leanest of their adolescence and the chubbier extravagance of the last couple years. He was now the perfect balance of supple and firm, his arms and thighs subtly muscular, his face a little less full, his stomach nearly flat. He didn’t care but he knew Guy-Man could get sensitive. He worked hard to be fit in time for the album rollout and looking at the contact sheets for their YSL shoot with Hedi, he quietly beamed at his progress. Thomas shakes his head and gets up. _That’s enough work for today._

Guy-Manuel tries to swim every morning. The monotony of the laps, the rush of water then air then water, the burn of his muscles, it grounds him. Everything else - pesky chords, missed collaborations, label frustrations - it all just drifts away leaving him clear-headed. It’s become one of his favorite moments of the day and this morning is the first he’s had solely to himself in quite some time. It is truly pure bliss. He pushes himself, thinking back to when he could hardly do two or three laps. _Had it been that long?_

Somewhere near lap fifteen or sixteen his thoughts drift to Thomas. They hadn’t talked too much since their lap around the Coachella grounds on Saturday night. After the first round of teasers played, they had slipped into the crowd and away from the guys and interviewers. The fact that they could go unnoticed still boggled them both. They weren’t rock stars; just two music lovers sharing an intimate moment together. The slow burn of a kiss, the errant brush of a hand. It’s funny that they could feel more alone in a crowd of thousands than surrounded by friends at the roomy estate. After they got home, Thomas was immediately on the phone with LA and Paris, figuring out logistics and business for their next step, Saturday Night Live. He’s probably still up there working. He sighed as he pushed himself hard on the next turn.

 

Clad in a pair of blue Lacoste trunks, Thomas walks out to the pool carrying a bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses. He sets them down next to the large cabana at the opposite end of the pool while watching Guy-Manuel the entire time: each small crest of water as he gracefully swims, the rhythm of each splash echoing around the open deck. His gold bracelet shimmers through the water. Thomas is hypnotized.

Guy-Manuel’s lungs burn, his muscles aching to stop. He backstrokes towards the cabana end of the pool, staring at the sky, nary a cloud in sight. His fingers connect with the edge of the pool. He turns to find Thomas uncorking a bottle of champagne.

“God, we still have champagne?” Thomas only smiles in response, pouring each of them a glass. He approaches the pool and bends down to hand Guy-Manuel a flute before sitting down and sticking his long legs in the water, toes tapping a soft beat. The pair drink in companionable silence. Their ability to go for hours without having to say a word to one another struck many as odd. To them it was just they way they were after all this time. Guy-Manuel rests his head against Thomas’ leg. Thomas looks down at his oldest friend, his face the picture of contentment. He pets his wet hair, his fingers leaving long unbroken tracks. Guy-Man closes his eyes and smiles like a Cheshire Cat. Thomas is so entranced with Guy-Man’s hair that he doesn’t notice his shifting arms until it’s too late.

Splash!

With a mighty heave, Guy-Manuel pulls Thomas’ legs and yanks him into the pool. Thomas flails underwater for a moment before popping up for air. Guy-Manuel is swimming towards the shallow end, cackling. Thomas hustles to catch up, putting his long limbs to good use. He catches him by the foot and pulls his friend to him. Guy-Manuel tries to kick out but Thomas just keeps pulling, wrangling him in like cowboy. They become completely entangled, a mess of limbs shouting and splashing like children, their laughter carried off by a gentle breeze. Thomas dunks Guy-Manuel’s head at one point but ever the wily opponent, Guy-Manuel tickles him in just the right spot to cause him to both sink and lose the upper hand. They keep up the horseplay, not so secretly enjoying the skin on skin contact that they have lacked this entire trip.

Thomas corners Guy-Manuel against the edge of the pool, his playful grin slipping into something more hungry. Guy-Manuel’s hair is slicked off his face, the reflection of the water making his eyes shine sapphire blue. A stray drop glides down from his nose and slides past his lips, his tongue peeking out to lick it away. Thomas runs his thumb along his bottom lip, his short nail grazing light at the seam of Guy-Manuel’s mouth. Guy-Manuel exhales slow through his nose, savoring Thomas’ gentle touch, the laser-like focus of his partner’s caress calming him. Thomas floats closer, crowding Guy-Manuel. He shifts down and presses his lips to a spot underneath his partner’s ear before he drags his nose along his jaw, dropping a kiss to the small cleft in his chin. Their eyes meet, heavy-lidded, and Thomas leans in to kiss Guy-Manuel’s parted lips. The kiss is chaste, little more than skin pressing on skin, the taste chlorine, sunscreen and champagne. Guy-Manuel places a hand to the back of Thomas’ neck, his fingers tracing nonsensical patterns along the skin there. There’s no rush, no distractions, no noise, just the lap of the water and their shared breath.

Guy-Manuel’s fingers begin creeping higher, skin giving way to wet curls. He massages his scalp as he runs his tongue along Thomas’ full lips. Thomas sighs contently as the kiss deepens, the taste of champagne giving way to the earthier flavor of his tea. They take the moment to reconnect and let it linger, relearning one another with each touch. Guy-Manuel’s near imperceptible moan when Thomas tugs his hair. The rasp of Thomas’ now lengthy beard against Guy-Manuel’s bare cheek. The press of fingers against collarbones and shoulders. Thomas’ quickening heartbeat when Guy-Manuel nips as his jugular. What started as delicate grows strong: where hands would graze they now grip, every touch, every kiss a clear and resounding affirmation. They grab at one another, struggling to get closer than they already are. Guy-Manuel palms Thomas’ ass, causing their cocks to meet. Their twin moans bounce across the deck.

Thomas brings a hand to Guy-Manuel’s face, bringing them both to a pause. They watch each other as their breath slows. Guy-Manuel is flushed across his nose, his eyes dark with his thin mouth agape. Thomas’ eyes are bright, the deep brown easily betraying his love. Thomas begins to swim towards the pool ladder and Guy-Manuel follows suit. Thomas takes the discarded glasses back to the table before lying down on the large futon inside the cabana. Guy-Manuel takes a swig straight from the bottle before crawling over Thomas, his wishbone pendant grazing his partner’s chest. He runs a hand across his bearded cheek before kissing him firmly. He kisses his way down Thomas’ neck and across his chest, licking his way down the strip of hair below his belly button. He quickly unties the blue trunks and pushes them down and off his legs. Guy-Manuel runs his hands up Thomas’ legs, skipping his cock to instead float up and rest by his shoulders. Thomas reaches up to brush his hand through Guy-Manuel’s damp hair, pushing his pendant to his back. His other arm wraps around his partners’ back. They kiss like this, lazy as their shared heat warms them.

Thomas eventually gets restless, fingers sweeping along the waistband of Guy-Manuel’s tight black trunks. While Guy-Manuel leans back and takes off his trunks, Thomas picks up his own. Guy-Man stops, puzzled, but his face quickly melts when Thomas pulls a condom and a small packet of lube from a pocket. He leans back, setting the packets down as he spreads his legs. Guy-Manuel crawls back over him, his thick cock heavy between his legs. He warms Thomas up with a rough kiss before trailing his lips down. Jaw, neck, chest, stomach. He looks up at Thomas and smiles at his slack jawed partner before licking the head of his cock. Thomas shudders, his hips bucking ever so slightly. Guy-Manuel goes to work, licking and sucking Thomas’ cock, swallowing as much he can before pulling off and kissing his sack. Guy-Man’s head dips lower, his tongue running over Thomas’ perineum before slowly and thoroughly licking his hole. Thomas is suddenly breathless, his skin on fire. Thomas stutters, words caught in his throat. This only riles Guy-Manuel further, his tongue pressing deeper. Thomas pulls his hair tight. He’s close but doesn’t want him to stop. _No, not yet._

Guy-Manuel sees the tightness in the corners of Thomas’ eyes and strokes his thigh. He drags himself up, skin against skin. He reaches for the bottle of champagne and takes a sip before offering some to Thomas, carefully pouring it in his mouth so as not to drown him. He sets the bottle down and kisses him slow. He reaches for the lube and slicks his fingers, pressing into his already wet heat with care. Thomas closes his eyes, losing himself to the sensation, the cool lube warming quickly. He tries to cry for more but Guy-Manuel hits his prostate with two fingers and he sees sparks. He claws at his arm, silently begging for his cock. Guy-Manuel shyly smiles. It’s not unusual for Thomas to become somewhat speechless. He tends to stutter whenever he is overwhelmed. But to see him so far gone, to a point where he can only gesture, it’s humbling. He strokes his cheek and presses his closed lips to Thomas’, quickly rolling on the condom before entering him slow, letting him feel every inch. Guy-Manuel pauses once he is fully sheathed, waiting patiently for Thomas to relax before beginning to shallowly thrust. Thomas’ body is a live wire, so taunt it threatens to snap. Guy-Manuel shifts his weight down, resting his body on top of Thomas, kissing under his chin. Thomas relaxes, the added pressure centering him. He runs a hand through Guy-Manuel’s hair as if to say _It’s ok, I’m ready._

Guy-Manuel shifts up and picks up the pace, adding that snap to his hips that Thomas craves. Soon they are damp not with pool water but with sweat, the fingers intertwined as Guy-Manuel pounds into Thomas, the slap of their skin and breathy grunts punctuating the air. Guy-Manuel reaches between them and takes hold of Thomas’ cock, stroking him at a punishing pace. It doesn’t take long for Thomas to come with a rasping cry, his quivering hole sending Guy-Manuel over the edge with his name on his lips. They collapse in a heap of overheated limbs, spent completely. Eventually Guy-Manuel pulls out and discards the condom, Thomas pulling him into his arms when he’s done.

The world around them may be crazy, the hysteria around this album looking to be beyond even their grand expectations, but no matter what, it always came back to this: the two of them, two men. Together they could weather any storm. Together they are strong.


End file.
